


cinnamon toast crunch frappucino

by adietxt



Category: One Piece
Genre: Barista Zoro, Fluff, M/M, Patron Sanji, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Yeah you read that right, ZoSan Advent Calendar 2017, coffee shop AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-25
Updated: 2017-12-25
Packaged: 2019-02-20 09:36:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,257
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13143921
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/adietxt/pseuds/adietxt
Summary: “So, is this a thing you do now?” Sanji asked, halting Zoro’s train of thoughts. “You’re the barista at this place?”“Yeah,” Zoro fuckinglied, and Perona gave him a knowing look from behind.(A Coffeeshop/Bakery AU.)





	cinnamon toast crunch frappucino

**Author's Note:**

> Loosely based from this [tweet](https://twitter.com/viinsmoke/status/919344430653390848):
>
>> Coffeeshop au with a twist: Zoro’s the bartender, blackmailed to work there to cover Nami’s shifts bc he owes too much money to her; Sanji is their regular who complains about the quality of Zoro’s coffee but Keeps Coming Back.
> 
>   
> This fic is the Day 2 entry for Zosan Advent Calendar held by [dailyzosan](http://dailyzosan.tumblr.com) on tumblr. Yeah, I know you're checking your calendar right now. I am terribly late with my posting, so thank you to the mods for being patient with me.
> 
> No cinnamon toast crunch frappucino were harmed in this fic. Merry Christmas!

Zoro isn’t a good barista.

 

* * *

 

There’s an ear-splitting screech from the back room, turning a few heads from the coffeeshop towards the counter, and Zoro cringes as Perona stomps into the backroom with a scowl and two paper cups in her hand. “Why is there milk all over the place?”

“Not my fault,” Zoro immediately counters, indignantly. “The machine exploded.”

“It’s a steam milk machine, dumbass, not a military weapon,” Perona bites back. “It can’t explode by itself, you must’ve done something stupid with it — you know what, never mind, I don’t care, there’s something more important.” She slams the paper cups on the table. “Two different customers complained, they said their mojitos taste like mangoes.”

Zoro doesn’t actually know what a _mojito_ is, but he’s not about to admit that to his currently fuming sister, so he opts to read up on the drink orders instead. He frowns. “They ordered for mangoes.”

“No they didn’t,” Perona sighs. “It says right there, BMTL. Blackberry Mojito Green Tea Lemonade.”

Zoro doesn’t know what most of those words mean, either. “The ‘M’ doesn’t stand for mangoes?”

His hands don’t move fast enough to block the scream that’s coming out of Perona’s mouth this time.

 

* * *

 

Scratch that. 

Zoro is a _terrible_ barista.

 

* * *

 

“Calm down,” he tells Perona as he wipes the counter, “it’s not a big deal, it’s just milk.”

“It’s not _just_ milk,” Perona says, busying herself with the Christmas decorations at the countertop. The shop’s closing and the customer’s dwindling down, so Zoro might actually have a chance to survive another day without Perona stabbing her with a fork. “We’re a coffee shop, milk is one of the most important ingredients of our products. You need to be more careful with — _why is there smoke coming out of the oven_.”

Zoro’s stomach drops. “Uh, I put in the muffins earlier.”

“They’re all _burnt,_ ” Perona screeches as she rushes to turn the oven off. “Why is the oven set to 300 degrees!?”

Zoro considers hiding all the forks in the shop, just in case. “I turned the temperature up. That way they’ll cook faster, right?”

Perona looks up with a withering glare. She looks like she’s _this_ close to committing fratricide, and Zoro can’t even blame her.

“You’re on trash duty for the next two weeks just for this,” she orders.

He groans. The nearest public trash can is almost a mile away from the shop, and carrying plastic bags filled with trash in the winter isn’t exactly a fun activity. “Why am I even still here,” he comments, offhandedly, low enough so she wouldn’t hear it.

She still does, because she’s _Perona_. “Oh, that’s _rich_ , coming from you.” She says with a smirk. She dumps all the burnt muffin to the trash can, spins dramatically and asks with mock innocence. “Do tell me, Zoro, _why_ are you even _here_?”

 

* * *

 

Okay, so.

Zoro may not even be an _actual_ barista.

Mihawk owns a high-end establishment that critics from all around the world visit and Perona kind of took up the family business with this quaint little coffee shop she started herself, but Zoro is just this college kid who likes sports and antique swords and Japanese sake. All non-alcoholic drinks taste the same to him, much to his family’s horror, and he knows jack _shit_ about coffee.

Mihawk asked him to make a cup of coffee once, during breakfast. He took one sip of Zoro’s coffee and decided then and there that Zoro was free to pursue whatever dreams he set for himself. Preferably something far away from coffee-making, for everyone’s sake. That, and any other drinks. _And_ other kitchen-related activities, in fact. Just to be safe.

So Zoro doesn’t have to be here. And he _wouldn’t_ be, really — his time is better off spent practicing for the next kendo competitions, for one — but there’s this thing, this _person_ , whose entire existence seems to be engineered to ruin Zoro’s _life_ , and —

The bells by the door chime as the coffee shop door swings open, and Perona’s half-laughing as she says, “oh, speak of the devil.”

Sanji walks into the shop and Zoro suddenly thinks he’d rather get stabbed with a fork after all.

 

* * *

 

Sanji is. Well.

There are a lot of ways to describe Sanji. None of them are enough to fully encapsulate how he makes Zoro wants to drown himself on a daily basis.

Sanji is... _different,_ for a start. He’s twenty-one, Zoro’s age, and goes to the same college. They take different majors, but they somehow keep going to the school gym around the same time to train, which is where Zoro first knew him. They took notice of each other almost immediately, being the only people who can keep up with each other's punishing sets. They struck up a rivalry, becoming quick enemies and quicker friends, trading insults and jabs across the mat, wide grins plastered on their faces.

Sanji also brings him food, these days — _putting my culinary degree to some good use_ , he claimed — and Zoro would never admit it out loud, but it’s the best food Zoro’s ever eaten. Which means Sanji is a hot dude who can kick Zoro’s ass _and_ cook a good meal afterwards, and Zoro may be a little in love with him.

Oh, and he’s also hopelessly, disgustingly _straight_. Which makes his entire existence absolutely infuriating to Zoro.

Zoro’s terrible, punishing career as a barista started on Christmas day one whole entire _year_ ago, when Perona called him in as a desperate replacement for a sick employee. The coffee shop was _packed_ with broke couples who refused to spend a dime on Starbucks, and Zoro was hanging around to take down people’s orders and left the coffee-brewing to people who actually knew what the fuck coffee was.

It was going to only be a two-day gig, but of course Sanji had to mess that all up by walking into the coffee shop.

Sanji’s entire face _lighted up_  as soon as he caught sight of Zoro. “Holy shit, you work here?”

The right answer to that was Hell The Fuck No, but when Zoro opened his mouth, what came out was, “kind of.”

It startled a laugh out of Sanji. “You? A barista?” Sanji asked, incredulous.

“It’s a family business,” Zoro said, which wasn’t exactly a lie. “Perona’s my sister. Why are _you_ even here?”

“You’re kidding right?” Sanji pointed towards the door. “My dad owns the bakery across the street and I help out sometimes. I’m a _regular,_ dipshit.”

Zoro knew Sanji’s dad ran a bakery, but he had never considered the possibility that it would’ve been _Baratie_ , the one right across Perona’s _Thriller Bark_. Perona was technically _neighbors_ with Zoro’s crush for god knows how long, and Zoro didn’t even know it until today.

“So, is this a thing you do now?” Sanji asked, halting Zoro’s train of thoughts. “You’re the barista at this place?”

In case you didn’t keep track, Zoro hated coffee. Zoro hated being a barista, didn’t care about his family business, and held, at most, an incomprehensible and exasperated tolerance for his sister.

But a common man is controlled through his stomach and his dick, and the blond man across the counter was currently in possession of both of Zoro’s, so really, there was only one answer to that question.

“Yeah,” Zoro fucking _lied_ , and Perona gave him a knowing look from behind.

 

* * *

 

Sanji walks into the shop, and Zoro feels his stomach sink as a girl with bright orange hair enters the coffee shop with him.

“Cook,” he says by way of greeting, and tries to pointedly ignore the way his heart feels like it’s being stomped over and over again.

“Marimo,” Sanji says, oblivious to Zoro’s despair. “I guess _somebody_ has to work on Christmas day, huh.”

“Not everyone wastes their time on Christmas dates,” Zoro says, aiming for nonchalant, but suspects that he sounds more bitter instead.

“Whatever, a brute like you wouldn’t understand,” Sanji says, dismissing Zoro with a wave. Zoro notices he doesn’t comment on the date part. “I’ll take the usual.”

“And ‘Christmas date’ over here?” Zoro pushes, because what the hell, he has nothing to lose anyways. He forces the kind of smile Perona has been nagging at him to give to the customers, but he’s probably showing more teeth than necessary.

“It’s ‘Nami’,” Orange Hair — Nami — corrects him (but doesn’t correct him on the date part either) and turns to Sanji. “Actually, you go grab a seat. I’ll look through the menu first.”

“Of course, my dear,” Sanji says, and scampers towards the seats.

Nami instantly whips back towards Zoro as soon as Sanji is out of earshot. “Wow. That was _embarrassing_.”

Zoro scowls, and tries to ignore the warmth that’s creeping up along his neck, towards his face. “Excuse me?”

“You couldn’t even say his name, said the word ‘date’, like, three times in a sentence, and you were this close to stabbing my eyes with a straw,” Nami points out, dead-on. “Did you ever tell him that you like him?”

“I wasn’t exactly _subtle_ ,” he sputters, indignant, not seeing the point in lying. “Or did you not see I was making a fool of myself for the past five minutes?”

“Oh, everyone can see all right,” Nami agrees. “You’re making a fool out of yourself right now, in fact.”

Zoro is about to ask _what_ when he spills hot water all over himself.

“Shit, shit, shit,” he says, turning on the tap and shoving his hand under the cold water.

Nami only laughs, that _witch_. Zoro scowls at her, and she smiles. “Well, today’s your lucky day, then, because I’m not anyone’s date. In fact, I’m here to help you.”

Zoro narrows his eyes at her, suspicious. “What? What’s in this to you?”

“Maybe I’m just wonderful and kind and generous?” Nami says without missing a beat. Zoro looks at her skeptically, and she shrugs, “okay, fine. Maybe I’m just tired of hearing him talk about his giant and embarrassing crush on you?”

Zoro blinks. “His what on _who_?”

“Come on, you heard me,” Nami says, and Zoro blinks again. “Wait, are you really that dumb?”

“I’m not — the cook’s straight. He’s always crazy about women.” Zoro makes a helpless gesture at her. “He just called you _dear_.”

“Right, because people can’t go for both,” Nami fires back. “He’s _bi_ , dumbass, and maybe you’ve never seen him make heart eyes at guys because he’s totally into _you_.”

Zoro spills another hot water on his hand.

“You’re hopeless,” Nami sighs as Zoro mutters another string of curses at the shop’s entire water supply network, “but I guess that’s why you two are made for each other. Go get ‘em, tiger.”

* * *

 

Zoro approaches Sanji’s table with his heart jackrabbiting in his chest. The cup in his hand is scalding hot, but he thinks his face burns hotter. 

He has to get this right. If Nami wasn’t lying — and he doesn’t think she did — he actually has a chance with Sanji. Stupid, infuriating, _kind_ Sanji. He can’t fuck this up. He has to get this right —

“Do you want to get some coffee?” Zoro blurts out, and instantly feels stupid.

Sanji arches his eyebrow. “Yeah, I’m getting one, I already ordered.” He looks at the cup in Zoro’s hand. “You’re literally holding it, actually.”

Zoro considers drowning himself in a pot of boiling coffee. “No, I mean,” he stumbles, and finds himself unable to look at Sanji in the eyes as he says, “on a date.”

There’s a beat of silence. Zoro thinks he can hear Nami laughing her ass off somewhere behind him.

He watches Sanji blush, his entire face turning red. “What the fuck — this better not be a joke.”

“It’s not a joke,” Zoro immediately says, and half-slams Sanji’s order on the table. “You were right, I suck at this whole barista thing, because I don’t care about it. I don’t care about coffee, or the shop, but,” he rubs the back of his neck. “I care about you.”

Sanji sounds like he’s choking on something, which is funny, because he hasn’t started drinking the coffee. Zoro contemplates the concept of choking _himself_ before he dies from embarrassment, but to his surprise Sanji meets his eyes and says, “your coffee sucks.”

Zoro blinks. “What?”

“I wasn’t lying when I said your coffee sucked, but,” Sanji quickly adds, “I kept coming back, right? And it wasn’t for the coffee.” He takes a sip of his drink, probably just to hide his blush that’s rivaling all the Christmas decorations around him. “I kept coming back to see you.”

Zoro doesn’t believe in Christmas miracles, so he’s pretty sure he’s dreaming right now. All he can muster is a, “huh.”

“Yeah,” Sanji agrees, and takes another sip of his coffee.

There’s another moment of silence, but this time it isn’t bad. It’s kind of... nice, actually, with a tinge of hopefulness, so he reaches across the table and laces their fingers together. Sanji flushes further but doesn’t let go, and Zoro thinks he doesn’t mind sharing more quiet moments like this with Sanji, just enjoying each other’s company —

“Five bucks say they’re going to make out in the back alley,” he hears Nami say.

Perona snickers. “Ten bucks say they’re going to make out _here_.”

Sanji sputters and chokes on his coffee but _still_ doesn’t let go of Zoro’s hand, and Zoro thinks he might not mind wasting his time on some Christmas dates after all.

 


End file.
